My Dead Girlfriend Keeps Messaging Me Novels & Stories

This is the most stupid thing I've ever done. “Not a gay guy, Riven. He's our mate,” Ford intruded. “Your mate, Ford. Not mine!” I snapped. “Ok, ugly.” I wanted to reply to this silly beast before my phone buzzed. I slid my hand into my pocket and tapped on the screen. It was a message from… Lara. She would always send me goodnight messages, even though it meant sending the same message 20 times in a month. I clicked on it, and I was right — the same goodnight text since two weeks ago.

My girlfriend needed me to make love to her and I was more than willing to do that. +++ "Dude, you deleted the messages?" Kent whispered, making sure no one could hear us. Haven and Aleecia were across the room, looking for a movie to watch, while smoking a blunt. "What else was I supposed to do?" I asked. "Um, not delete the messages? She's going to find out!" "Yeah, how? How is she going to find out about messages that no longer exist?" "I don't know, but this is gonna backfire man." Kent shook his head. "And stop telling me shit that I can't tell Aleecia! We have enough problems as it is right now."

The message read, "Baby, are you still upset with me? I've already apologized multiple times, and I promise I won't repeat my mistakes. Please answer my calls and texts so we can talk and resolve things. It's been months, and it's time to move forward. I love you deeply, and I don't want to lose you," my ex-girlfriend Nicole messaged.

She couldn't help but pick up her phone and sent a message to, Joel. : Hey, are you there? Usually, she didn't like messaging first, only if the person she was messaging was her best friend. But this time she made an exception as she had a lot to say to him. Coincidentally, Joel was listening to the same song and was also waiting for her to message him. One step closer I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more.

“Whatever, let's go. We're always stunning. What's new?” Liv leads the way all the way out of my penthouse. And when we made it to my car, we both received a notification in our phones. It's the group chat finally back from the dead. The last message was ‘hello? is everyone dead in this group chat?’ and it was sent 5 years ago. I have no idea why my friends also seemed to stop communicating with each other when I disappeared.

She says, causing me to shake my head. "I don't have any of his friends contact information. Jack barely even lets me talk to anyone. " I explain, as I no longer can shake the unsettling feeling within my chest. At this point I know something has to be wrong with Jack. Why would my texts turn green? Jack would have to block me for that to happen and why would he do that? Why won't my messages deliver? Where could Jack be? "What if Jack is dead?!" I say fearfully as I look over at Gianna with wide eyes.

In the third year after my fiancée, Iris Ford, falls off a cliff during a sketching trip in the mountains, I accidentally walk into her personal art exhibition. The person I have longed for day and night is right there, gently adjusting the scarf of the young man beside her. The walls are covered with portraits she once promises to paint only for me, but every subject of her paintings is that young man. Violet Bardot, Iris' best friend and the one who once helps me handle her funeral affairs, grabs me anxiously. "Graham, don't do anything rash. Iris has her reasons. After Jack Glenwood saved her, she suffered from a head injury and lost her memory. She didn't mean to stay away." I smile

I clicked on her profile. She’s all grown. I scrolled slowly, my thumb dragging across the screen. Different pictures. Different places. Then I saw it. Wedding pictures from three years ago. Then I noticed the message icon. She had already texted me. I tapped it open. Grace Mercer: Hi… Aurelia. I don’t know if you’ll respond, but… I think we need to talk. I stared at the message for a moment. Then I locked my phone.

She was sure she’d miss him terribly. “I see,” she replied, holding back her emotions. He nodded, offering a faint, sad smile. “I’ll miss you. So, please, check your messenger. I’m sure there’ll be a signal where we’re going. I want to call you often.” She nodded. But then she slapped her forehead. They weren’t even friends on F******k. “How will you call me? We’re not even friends on F*.” “You added me earlier,” he said with a grin, making her frown.

I felt like something was wrong. I let out a sigh, grabbing my phone to text him. 'Hey. Been a while, bro, what's up?’ I texted him and he saw my message immediately, not even after a second after I sent it. It seemed as if he was already in my inbox, watching creepily. I shook off the weird feeling, typing again. ‘I haven't seen you in a while now. Are you good?’. 'Yes, do you miss me?’ He replied to my message.